Page 27 of Honor and Claim (A New Reign #2)

Chapter Twenty-Seven

COSIMA

T here is already a thread of tension when we enter the old Italian restaurant. The setting pulls me straight back to Italy. I’m surprised I’ve never been here before. The place is beautiful.

“How come we’ve never come here before?” I ask Z.

“It’s been closed for many years.”

“Oh.” There are fresh linens on the tables. There are only a handful of them. I thought they might have cleared out the space, opening it up for the private dinner. “So it’s just been sitting here?” Seems a waste.

“Yes, your father shut it down.” I don’t get a chance to ask Z why. Kimmy is coming over to greet me. She is the second and way younger wife to the head of the Cornaro family. I have always enjoyed her company. It can be challenging to sift through who is genuine and who isn’t in this lifestyle.

“I’ll get you a drink,” Z says, kissing my shoulder.

I nod while waving Tova over to introduce her to Kimmy.

The Cornaros hadn’t made it to her wedding.

Even if they had, they probably wouldn’t have met her because my brother, War, was being super protective of her that night.

He barely introduced her to anyone, thinking they would try to use her against him.

“You and Z?” Kimmy asks.

We all make small talk, but my eyes drift around the room.

There are a lot of powerful families here.

What does stand out to me is when Sal and his father walk through the doorway, they are technically a lower-tier family in rankings.

In a way, it makes them stick out. Even Kimmy's brows pull together when she sees them. They’ve never really been invited to the table before.

“Z and Sal had an issue a few weeks ago,” I fill in for her.

“Ahh.” Kimmy nods. “Oh, that makes sense. Sal has had a thing for you.”

“Let’s be honest. He has a thing for my last name.”

I’ll never have to worry about that with me being married to Z. He’s here for me; in fact, I could be the very reason he sticks around.

“He’s coming this way,” Tova says under her breath. I’d already clocked Sal heading toward me.

“Cosima, you’re as breathtaking as ever.” Sal is incredibly cocky as he takes my hand and kisses it. His eyes lock on my finger. I’m not wearing my ring on a necklace tonight. It’s been back on my finger since Z put it there. “You’re married.” I pull my hand back.

I can feel Z’s eyes on me. “Yes,” I answer. Z stands across the room next to War and a few other men. He makes no move to come over and break me away, despite Sal being near me. Interesting. I go with the flow, trusting whatever Z has planned.

“Z doesn’t waste time, does he?”

“Not sure I agree there. We have been waiting many years for this.” I tell the truth, not wanting anyone to think any different.

“You grew up together. It’s?—”

“Watch your tongue,” I warn. Sal’s jaw flexes, his eyes staying locked with mine.

I don’t break eye contact with him, staring right back.

I had a fiery mom growing up. She taught me to assert myself.

I might be a pretty face to someone like Sal, a girl who should know her place, but I don’t live by those old-school rules. I’m not going to keep my mouth shut.

“I was invited here as a show of apology for the other night.”

“Then maybe you should go collect. My husband is right over there.” I tell him this, but I notice that Z is already heading toward me with a drink in hand. I’m sure Sal spotted Z the second he walked in.

“Sal,” Z says, not glancing toward him as he hands me a glass.

“Z,” Sal responds, shifting on his feet, his bravado wavering.

“Let’s say hello to everyone before dinner starts,” Z says to me.

“Of course.” I let him lead me away. “He came tonight for an apology?” I say behind my glass as I take a sip. Z grunts a response, and there isn’t time to ask more because we’re greeted by a few other people. Then my parents walk in.

“It’s been a long time,” Mom says, glancing around the restaurant.

“You used to come here?” I ask.

“Was one of my favorite places.”

“Really? Then why did Dad shut it down?”

“The last time I was here didn’t end so well.” Mom taps her lips, signing for me not to ask more. Not now, at least. It’s a story for another time.

“Everyone,” War announces. “We are going to start to serve the first course.”

Z leads me to our seats. I’m a bit surprised when I see Sal and his father are at our table.

The tension is thick, and I debate if I should try and crack it with my normal small talk.

I can tell they are uncomfortable. I don’t blame them.

It’s all of our family and the two of them. They stick out like sore thumbs.

“This was an interesting location to choose for dinner.” Tullio finally speaks as a few servers come out with trays. “Is there a reason you chose it?” He looks to War and then over to my father. Dad puts his arm around Mom's chair, his thumb stroking her shoulder.

“It was my idea.” Z picks up his glass, taking a drink. Sal pulls at the collar of his buttoned-up shirt, undoing a button as though the conversation has gone in a direction he’s not comfortable with.

“Because in the end everything worked out that night?” Tullio gives my mom a smile. “I’ll never understand why the Lombardi family thought it was okay to target a wife. They should have known Dario would kill them all after retrieving Rochelle from them.”

“But we found her, thanks to you,” Dad responds.

“Wait, did that happen here?” I ask before I can stop myself. Yeah, I’m not great at holding my tongue. Now it makes more sense why my mom didn’t want to talk about it earlier when I asked. She knew it was a sore subject for my dad.

“I’d come here for dinner. One second I was eating dinner, and the next I was waking up in an old warehouse.” Mom turns on a charming smile, directing it at Tullio, but I know my mother. It doesn’t meet her eyes. “But thankfully, with your help, my Dario was able to find me.”

I lean back in my chair. I can sense the stress rising. Sal is also showing signs of increasing tension as he undoes another button of his shirt and a light film of perspiration appears on his face.

“Of course, I’m only glad I was able to help,” Tullio says as a server starts to place the first course in front of each of us.

"Help by trying to lay claim to their daughter," Z says. It's not a question.

"It was only an idea. No harm in that." Tullio shrugs casually, but it's far from it. Others must be sensing the tension too because the chatter around the room has quieted down, people glancing our way.

"Neither War nor I would have allowed that," Z tells him.

"I believe that is up to her father and War, technically, at this point." Tullio dips his spoon in the minestrone soup.

Z slams his hand down onto the table, making everything rattle. The room falls silent, except for the sound of Tullio dropping his spoon back into the bowl.

“No one picks who I marry but me.” Again, I totally can’t help myself. I mean I’m sitting right here, and the Amatos are acting as though I have no damn say. Tova tries to fight a smile at my outburst. “Okay, Z might have a little say.” I playfully roll my eyes.

“Sweetness.” Z kisses my shoulder again, not shy at all about giving me affection in a room full of people. My father had always been that way with Mom. It did often make them stand out in this kind of setting because they were truly in love.

“My sister isn’t wrong.” War speaks loudly and clearly for the whole room to hear.

“Tullio isn’t wrong either.” Boo, I don’t want to be grouped with him.

“I am in charge.” He stares right at Tullio.

“And things are changing.” He glances over to Ronan and then to Z.

“You might not like those changes, but it’s how my brothers and I will be moving forward. ”

“Dario.” Tullio calls to my father, who shakes his head at him. Murmurs break out in the room. I’m sure many are not happy about this news.

“You change, or you get left behind,” Z adds.

“Or we do what we need to.” Ronan speaks for the first time. Always so quiet but never missable, that brother of mine.

“This is not why I thought we were here.” Tullio keeps pushing. As for Sal, he’s not looking so great. “We were told this would be an apology for his behavior.” He points his fat, short finger at Z.

“We’re not here for no reason, Tullio,” Z responds. “I thought this place was rather fitting since you drugged Rochelle here.”

“I did no such thing!” Tullio starts to stand from his seat.

“Sit the fuck down,” Ronan orders him.

“You might not have done it, but you knew it was happening, didn’t you?” Z goes on. Holy shit. Tullio is shaking his head adamantly no. “You capitalized on it. It wasn’t really Rochelle that you wanted. No, it was a favor, a debt so you could have Cosima.”

“What?” Sal turns toward his father, sweating more. What the hell is wrong with him?

“Don’t play dumb, Sal. You knew. Not back then, but you’ve known for years.” Z calls Sal on his bullshit.

“Dario, do you believe this? You know he’s insane. Just like his father.” Tullio tries to pave himself a way out of this.

I swear if I could, I would reach down, take my knife out of my garter, and cut that man's tongue out for talking about Z like that. But I know that I can’t lose my temper right now. Not when the stakes are so high.

“I believe him,” my father says without hesitation. “Even without the proof Z showed me.” Dad reaches into his suit coat pocket, pulling out papers to hand over to Tullio.

Tullio scans them. “What are they?” I whisper, maybe too loudly.

“Communications between them.” Z nods to Sal and Tullio.

“How do you have these?” Sal takes the papers from his father.

“I hacked them,” Z says simply. “Eat, your food is getting cold.” Tullio glances down at his soup. “Scared history is repeating itself?”

I peek down at my own soup. Did Z do something to Tullio’s food? I suppose that would be fitting; they’d done that to our mom.

Tova has a hand over her mouth, eyes wide. I can’t tell if she’s enjoying the show. I’m not sure how I feel about it yet. I’ll need to see the ending first.